Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [71]
She felt elated by her victory—for small though it was, it proved her to be a power.
It is time I came back, she told herself.
Sarah sent for Abigail Hill.
“You have done well while I have been away,” she said. “That flibbertigibbit sister of yours will have to mend her ways though.”
“I trust Alice has done nothing go displease your Grace.”
“Displease me,” cried Sarah. “I should quickly box her ears if she did. I should remind her that I took her from a broom—as I told you—and made her laundress in the household of his Grace of Gloucester. And now she had her pension and her place here—all due to me. I find her idle and scarcely worth her salt. She gossips too much.”
“I will tell her of Your Grace’s displeasure.”
“And that brother of yours.”
“Jack!”
“Jack indeed. He has been importuning the Duke for a place in the Army, if you please.”
“Oh, it is too much,” said Abigail, lowering her eyes and folding her hands together.
Sarah watched her with gratification. Abigail Hill had not disappointed her, although she had carried no tales. Perhaps Danvers and the rest took care what they said in front of the girl, knowing her relationship to the Marlboroughs and realizing of course that she would lose no time in reporting all she heard. There was no doubt about it—she was a good influence in the Queen’s apartment.
“Never mind, never mind. Although it would have been better if the boy had come to me. The Duke has much with which to occupy himself.”
“As has your Grace.”
“That’s true enough. I only have to turn my back and we have bodice-makers given grand titles. We’ll be hearing that grooms are being turned into noble Dukes next. And then, if you please, we have to show our piety by touching for the King’s Evil. Medieval, I call it. You should have told me what was going on.”
Abigail looked contrite. “Your Grace, I knew that you were in mourning.…”
“It’s of no account. Well, now I am here and I shall see that all goes smoothly and as it should. I believe the Queen has been pleased with you. You have looked to her comfort without intruding. That’s being a good servant. I am going to reward you.”
“Your Grace is so good.”
“My youngest daughter is with me. I did not care to leave her at St. Albans now that her sister is married and her brother … gone. So I have brought her with me. I want you to keep an eye on her. It means that you will accompany us perhaps to the opera or to the play. You will watch my daughter and make sure no harm befalls her.”
“And the Queen …” Abigail was terrified for the moment. Did this mean that she was going to be taken from Anne’s service? She could not have endured that. She pictured herself going to the Queen, throwing herself on her knees and demanding to be kept.
But Sarah went on impatiently: “Certainly not. The Queen would not wish to lose you. You have proved yourself a good chambermaid. This will be in the nature of a little treat for your good services.”
A treat! A duenna for the hot-tempered Mary who was too like her mother for comfort. She hoped that Anne would soon ask for her to resume her duties.
Anne said fretfully: “And where is Hill?”
“Your Majesty,” said Mrs. Danvers, “the Duchess said she was taking her to the opera.”
“The opera! Hill! But how very strange.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It is strange that the Duchess should take the chambermaid to the opera.”
“Danvers, I should like you to bathe my feet. They are very swollen today. Oh dear, how I should love to go to the opera, but frankly, Danvers, I do not care to be carried there … and that is how it would have to be. I do believe my gout has been worse these last days. Hill had such soothing hands.”
Mrs. Danvers brought the bowl and bathed the royal feet.
There was not the magic in her hands that was in Hill’s. She closed her eyes. How tiring it had been this afternoon. Dinner at three of the clock had made George as sleepy as usual; and he had slept away that pleasant hour or two which she usually so enjoyed in her beloved green closet. It was Hill’s duty to sit at the